Somehow I seem to start this new year with a fresh breath of energy. Maybe a fresh insight, too. You fall in love and you protect what you love. Reality fouls the equation and you think you've fallen out of love. Find a new romantic object and do it all again.
Oh, I want to bring flowers and open doors. My cloak is ready for the next puddle.
Love works best like this. For me. You barely know I'm here.